If you have read my blog at all you know that I am totally neurotic about food/weight. But, being a well-rounded kind of gal, I also dabble in other neurosis. Last week was a high-anxiety week for me for 2 reasons: I had to go to the dentist, and I had to give a one-hour presentation at work.
Over the years I have grown quite phobic about the dentist, and this time was particularly bad. I hadn’t been in for a check-up for almost two years. I know, I know. That was terribly irresponsible of me. But, in my own defense, my old dentist was out in the ‘burbs. I live in the city now, and don’t own a car. I bothered to start looking for a new one downtown around the time that one of my teeth started to hurt. I really do actually have very good oral hygiene (though, nobody who looks inside my mouth would believe that)(also, huhuh…I said “oral”). One of the many unfortunate side-effects of bulimia (I will return to that story line at some point soon!) is that it wears down the tooth enamel. Now, even though I have been “cured” for almost 10 years, I still have to deal with the effects of my terrible enamel every single time I go to the dentist. I NEVER leave the dentist without finding out I have a cavity. Ever. This time, after 2 years, I came to find out that I had numerous cavities aside from the one that hurt. So, last week I had to get 3 fillings on one side of my mouth; then I have to go back in February and get a few more on the other side.
My anxiety about the visit last week was heightened because I didn’t know the dentist. Also because I have a mild case of misophonia when it comes to mouth noises, and can’t stand the sound the Novocain needle makes as it’s going in. Also because I have TMJ, and it’s really hard for me to keep my mouth open wide for long periods of time. Also because I have, in the words of my massage-therapist husband, “one of the worst necks in the world.” So, keeping my head tilted at an angle for an hour is extremely uncomfortable. In other words, the visit was going to be torture. And it was. It was every bit as horrible as I imagined it to be. PLUS! My new dentist is a giggler. She was chit-chatting with the hygienist, the whole time that I was in agony, and giggling like a teenager. My emotional state was somewhere between crying and stabbing. Note to self: next time, in order to stay on track with resolution to be more loving, for the love of god, bring headphones!
Ugh. Next time: Presentation Problems.
